AMANTI, nico di angelo

I. a dog is a(-n amnesiac) boy's best friend

0001. | A DOG IS A(—N AMNESIAC)
BOY'S BEST FRIEND

If it weren't for his pen, his iron skin and the supersized dog, Percy Jackson was certain that the snake ladies would have killed him long ago.

To clarify—because Percy himself had been quite confused initially—his pen was magical. It was a classic biro, or at least, as classic as Percy could recall (recently he hadn't been able to recall much at all) but upon removing its cap, the plastic pen turned into a meter long sword the colour of bronze and incredibly sharp. It was engraved at the hilt, Anaklusmos. It meant Riptide, but Percy wasn't sure how he knew that, he just sort of did.

Over the past two months, Percy had come to understand that he knew quite a few unexplainable things. Like how his skin was completely invulnerable to scrapes and bruises that he was sure he must have accumulated from all his attempts at survival, especially from that wolf Lupa who had been particularly harsh when training him. Percy also wasn't sure how he knew that the silent wolf was training him, but he supposed it was just another one of those unexplainable things. Like how he knew he couldn't be hurt, but he always made sure to cover his lower back because for some reason, he knew that small space at the base of his spine wasn't as invincible, in fact, it was the most vulnerable part of him.

Percy was also very aware of an element of something magical in his journey. Well obviously, he had a magic pen! But there was something more. Something more which let him know that the two women who had chased him from Lupa's grounds weren't human. He knew they were monsters with their sharp fangs and snakes that grew from their head but he didn't know why. The same way he knew his six foot tall, ash brown dog was his only friend in this whole wide world.

At first sight, Fluffy was terrifying. Percy had almost drawn his sword onto the six foot tall dog, but there was something familiar about the dog. Not its massive wolfish body exactly, but the scar that ran over its face and cut deep through its fur. It might've been gruesome if it weren't for its gorgeous golden colour. The scar ran from its brow, over its left striking silver eye, and past its cropped muzzle.

          It oddly suited the dog and Percy felt an odd comfort with it. Well, really, the dog was a him, a boy to be exact (Percy hated how he found that fact out...) and the dog definitely lived up to the name Percy gave him—Fluffy. Snuggling into Fluffy's side and being blanketed by his fur had been extraordinarily useful moving into cool summer nights, as they journeyed to the place Lupa had directed him, Percy made sure to take care of Fluffy as much as Fluffy had taken care of him.

Fluffy was the only constant Percy knew, and Annabeth, but he wasn't entirely sure who that was. He had taken to speaking aloud to Fluffy, pretending as if he was a real person.

Percy imagined if he was human he'd be quite tall, maybe as tall as he was as a dog, and with that same ash brown hair and golden scar over his face. Percy was sure he'd be just as terrifying as a human than as a dog but he knew that was impossible. It wasn't like Fluffy was secretly a real person, no matter how much Percy wanted him to be.